


the Robin to your Batman (the Louis Lane to your Superman)

by technicolouredmonochrome



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 08:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1850662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicolouredmonochrome/pseuds/technicolouredmonochrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he’s not busy saving people in alleyways, he works in a small, unassuming coffee shop three blocks from their headquarters. He’s got the whole <i>secret-identity</i> thing down to an art form, donning thick, black-rimmed glasses and dressing so forgettably that no one really pays him any mind, except for the occasional lady that makes some half-hearted attempt at flirting with him while waiting for their coffee.</p><p> </p><p>And for awhile, life is good; it’s peaceful, quiet, and he’s doing a good job at hiding everything and his secret-identity as the infamous Black Devil doesn’t give him any problems at all. He’s just Daniel Gruchy, coffee barista by day, crime fighter by night.</p><p> </p><p>Needless to say, it isn’t much of an issue until it <i>becomes</i> an issue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the Robin to your Batman (the Louis Lane to your Superman)

It isn’t much of an issue until it _becomes_ an issue.

In other words: Daniel Gruchy is also otherwise known as the Black Devil, and _yes_ , all those capital letters are necessary.

Everything is kind of ridiculous actually, from the mask to the skin tight suit ( _spandex_ ), dropping into alleyways and knocking out muggers or robbers or anyone that looks like they’re breaking the law. Becoming the Black Devil is easy enough; the army had taught him well, and he’s run many a covert mission during his time in the Special Forces – he knows how to be quiet, how to wait, how to hit so fast and so hard that no one even knows what hit them.

All that was left was getting together a small crew to work behind him: Barbara fixing up his tech for him and listening in on police scanners, sending him a text whenever something new comes up; Ray helping him out on the rare occasion, lodged high up with his sniper rifle at the ready; Burnie running interference and keeping nosy police officers and reporters off his back; Michael swinging up in a car or a motorcycle or whatever getaway vehicle Burnie’s procured for them this time.

Dan doesn’t kid himself, he _doesn’t_ do most of the heavy lifting despite being in the position of most danger half the time. That position definitely fell to Barbara or Burnie, without which he wouldn’t even have the mask or the kind of funding needed to pull off some of the things he has. The idea belonged to him though, and he has every intention of making sure that their city _knew_ that there should be, and will be, only one masked vigilante stalking the streets. It was Burnie’s idea to come up with some kind of signal (“What, like a _bat-signal_?” Michael had scoffed. “Dude, even _I_ know that’s tacky as fuck.” “Not light,” Burnie had replied with an eye roll. “Light is too... It’ll be difficult to set up. Takes too long. Someone would probably _die_ before they can get the signal up and call for help. No... We need something _better_.”) that blares a loud and obnoxious tune that carries in the quiet of their small little town. They spend an afternoon discretely dropping easy to carry around transmitters that blare the tune at a press of the button as well as allows Barbara to track the source of the alarm.

There are kinks in the original plans; sometimes Dan reaches the scene too late, and there’s a boy curled up on the floor, heaving through the snot and tears and blood, and sometimes the alarm goes off and Dan finds himself swarmed by another group of people that are desperate to figure out his identity.

Other than that, everything goes smoothly, and the gang enjoys a few months of unparalleled low crime rates, the news blaring images of men and women with their head bagged and body tied up with black rope at the scene of the crime every now and then, the words _Black Devil Strikes Again!_ in bold at the bottom of the screen.

“I like that name,” Michael comments offhandedly one evening, legs propped up on the small coffee table and sipping indulgently at his can of beer.

Ray falls into the couch next to him, pulling his feet up onto the table as well. “Yeah, suits you.”

“It’s all because of all the fucking black in the costume,” he groans, grabbing an unopened can of beer and taking a long swig from it.

“Some say that he’s devilishly handsome,” Michael starts with a dramatic sweep of his hand.

“Others say he’s really quite the devil,” Ray continues with with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Dan retorts without any real heat.

They just burst into laughter as he tries to hide his increasingly red face in his hands.

–

When he’s not busy saving people in alleyways, he works in a small, unassuming coffee shop three blocks from their headquarters. He’s got the whole _secret-identity_ thing down to an art form, donning thick, black-rimmed glasses and dressing so forgettably that no one really pays him any mind, except for the occasional lady that makes some half-hearted attempt at flirting with him while waiting for their coffee.

And for awhile, life is good; it’s peaceful, quiet, and he’s doing a good job at hiding everything and his secret-identity as the infamous Black Devil doesn’t give him any problems at all. He’s just Daniel Gruchy, coffee barista by day, crime fighter by night.

Needless to say, it isn’t much of an issue until it _becomes_ an issue.

It starts like this: brown hair and sea-green eyes walks into the coffee shop one morning.

Sure he has an appreciation for good looking dudes, occasionally he catches himself staring at Michael’s or Ray’s ass when they leave the room; and he has a healthy appreciation for ladies too, he’s tried hitting on Barbara more than once, only to realise that the only thing she seems to care about more than herself are her computers, and in _no way_ is he going to be able to compete with them for her affection. But brown hair and sea-green eyes trumps _all_ of that, makes his breath stop short and makes him want to write odes to the way the sunlight catches on his hair and causes his eyes to sparkle.

The way he trips over his own feet while walking into the shop doesn’t change that.

Or the accidental jostling of one of the tables when he catches himself doesn’t change that feeling either.

Even when he bumps into someone and nearly upends their coffee, Dan really just wants to coo adoringly at him.

Well fuck, he’s a _badass_ masked vigilante for god’s sake.

“Morning,” brown hair and sea-green eyes greets with an apologetic grin when he finally reaches the counter (tripping twice more on nothing but air), and Dan finds himself distract by how his teeth _are the most perfect teeth ever_.

“Uh, morning,” he replies after an awfully long time of just _staring_. “What would you like?”

“Just a latte, not feeling too adventurous this morning,” brown hair and sea-green eyes says with a shrug, frowning at his wallet like it’s being particularly obtuse today.

“Sure,” Dan says with a swallow, tamping down the urge to reach up and smooth the wrinkle between his eyebrows as he continues staring at his wallet, turning quickly to the computer system and keying in the order. “Name?”

Brown hair and sea-green eyes doesn’t reply, and Dan is staring to wonder if he should repeat himself (is it too rude? too impatient?), when brown hair and sea-green eyes looks up, startled, and immediately answers with “Oh. Gavin.”

Dan can’t help his answering grin. “Nice to meet you Gavin,” and immediately feels his face bloom bright red because _fuck_ , that was as good as flirting and _what the fuck is wrong with him today_.

But Gavin either doesn’t notice, or thinks it’s all part of their shop’s decorum because he doesn’t grin back or say anything in reply, just keeps staring with intense focus at his wallet as he carefully picks out a couple of bills to pay for his order. _Maybe he’s not interested_ Dan says and feels immensely relieved that he hadn’t just made a fool of himself, and immensely disappointed because–

Because.

Whatever it is, the coffee arrives before he can memorise the shape of Gavin’s lips or the way he pokes his tongue out in concentration as he carefully counts his bills, and when Dan hands him his cup of latte Gavin gives him a happy, open-mouthed smile that blinds Dan for a moment with just how _bright_ it is.

“Thanks–” Gavin says, and then squints carefully at his name tag. “–Dan.” He nods to himself, seemingly self-satisfied, and then with a parting “Cheers!” he’s out the door in a whirlwind of movement, leaving Dan staring wistfully as the closing glass door.

–

He figures that’s it, that he’ll never see Gavin again, that this is a once in a lifetime thing that he’ll get through and ultimately forget. So he goes back to his vigilante job, turning down the ladies (and sometimes men) that offer to show him gratitude in _different ways_ , and politely evades dates that customers half-heartedly try to convince him to agree to as they wait for their coffee.

Except a week after their first meeting, Gavin comes into the coffee shop again, a little frazzled, distracted, but still friendly, and orders another cup of latte. Dan smiles and says “Sure,” except he’s busy imagining running his fingers through Gavin’s hair while watching his fingers fly over the screen of his phone. Again, the coffee is done too soon, and Gavin is handing him bills and smiling that same, happy, carefree smile as he waves and hurries out of the shop, leaving Dan staring after him with equal measures of longing and confusion.

Gavin shows up seven days later.

And then four days after that.

And then two.

Soon he’s coming into the shop everyday, ordering the same latte every morning. He has the exact change for his coffee in his wallet, and Dan starts pre-empting his arrival each morning but doesn’t get around to actually preparing his coffee beforehand the way he does with some other regulars; it’s mostly just his excuse to spend a few more moments watching as Gavin busies himself on his phone or stares distractedly at his watch. It’s enough, Dan muses, to just get to see Gavin hurry in each morning and leave with a cheerful “Thanks Dan!” when he’s got his cup of coffee.

Dan brushes it off as nothing. This is _Gavin_ who he’s barely spoken any words to (not counting the morning greetings and cheerful goodbyes) and he can just suck it up, stay behind the counter, and continue to pine (“Like the fucking loser you are,” Michael grumbles as he texts Lindsay) quietly.

–

Barbara texts him the minute he gets off work. _Just round the corner of the block you’re at, robbery._

He ducks between two dumpsters and changes quickly, pulling on the mask and checking that all his equipment is in place. (“We should get you a fucking utility belt to hang all your shit on,” Ray says when he’s double checking his equipment for the day. “Like Batman, only... cooler.” “Would you fucking quit comparing me to Batman?” Dan complains but Barbara just sniggers.) He darts around the corner and keeps to the shadows thrown by the walls, pressing himself against the red brick and holding his breath.

There’s a flash of metal in the dimness of the alleyway, and Dan quietly sizes the attacker up: male definitely, from the bulk of his shoulders to the way he’s standing, probably around his height but slightly heavier round the middle. His fingers grasp the end of his baton and he spots a low wall, easy enough for him to scale and use to get the jump on the robber.

He’s ducked low on the edge of the wall, leaning as far forward as he dares and trying to hear what is being said without being noticed. “Give me all your valuables,” a low voice hisses. “Hurry!”

Dan wastes no time in launching himself off the wall and wrapping his hand around the robber’s mouth, silencing his yells of surprise. After that it’s quick enough work to knock the guy unconscious and bag his head before tying the guy up with the excess nylon rope Ray always helps to replenish each evening. When he’s through with the robber, he turns to the victim, words of assurance on the edge of his lips (“Are you okay? Any major injuries? Do we need to get you to a hospital? It’s going to be alright–”) but what he sees stops him short.

It’s Gavin, standing in the dim alleyway but recognisable nonetheless.

He goes from distrustful and terrified to relieved and thankful the moment he catches sight of the emblem splayed across his chest.

“Thank you so much!” Gavin says stepping forward and into his personal space. “I just– I was so terrified, I don’t have much you know? And then this guy shows up and pulls out a knife and– Thank you!” and then, more abashedly, “I’m a huge fan.”

Dan feels the breath being punched out of him but manages to hold his ground and doesn’t let his expression change. “No problem,” he finally manages when Gavin’s starry eyed staring becomes a bit unnerving. “I’m just doing my job,” and he places a hand on Gavin’s shoulder and tries to create some distance between them. He takes in a deep breath and plows on. “Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need medical attention?”

“No no,” Gavin says with a wave of his hand and steps back closer to Dan. “I’m, uh, fine. A little shocked and star-struck but– who isn’t right?”

Dan clears his throat again and _is Gavin blushing?_

 _Must be the light_ he tells himself and takes a step back, squaring himself and putting on a small grin.

“Like I said, just doing my job,” Dan replies and watches as Gavin ducks his head at that. He’s stuck staring at the way Gavin looks all blurred around the edges and so surreal in the low light, that he almost misses the buzz of his phone in his pocket. “I, uh, I gotta go,” he says and almost follows it with a _if you don’t want me to go I won’t_. “Duty calls and all that,” he says instead and starts backing away.

“Yeah,” Gavin says with a shrug. “Don’t let me keep you. Thanks again!”

“Get home safe!” Dan can’t help but call over his shoulder as he vaults over the low wall.

When he’s a safe distance away he heaves in a deep breath and collapses against a nearby wall. Fuck. He’s so fucked.

At least it’s a one time thing right?

–

It’s not a fucking one time thing.

–

Firstly, Gavin comes into the coffee shop the next morning a lot more chirper than usual. He practically bounces over to the counter and greets Dan with a warm “Good morning” before he orders his coffee.

It’s as good an opening as he’s going to get so while waiting for the coffee to come he remarks casually “Had a good night?”

All he expects is for Gavin to give a noncommittal “Mmhmm” and start typing on his phone again, or shoot him a strange smile and ignore him. What he doesn’t expect is for Gavin’s eyes to glaze over and sigh as he props his elbow on the counter.

“You have no idea.”

“Oh,” Dan replies, eyebrows raised. “Why’s that?”

Gavin glances around quickly before leaning in and mock whispering, “Have you heard of the Black Devil?”

Dan tries to stay calm and shrugs absently. “Yeah, the folks around here talk about him quite a bit.”

“He saved me last night,” and he sounds a little love sick as he says it. “It was _amazing_.”

Something flares up in Dan’s chest but just as he’s about to reply, the coffee arrives and he hands it over to Gavin, expecting him to just take it and leave with his usual “Thanks Dan!”

Today is just full of fucking surprises however.

“You seem like quite a fan too,” Gavin says instead, “The way your eyes widened and everything when I mentioned him. I could tell you every juicy detail when you get off work or over your lunch break or something,” he finishes with an eyebrow wiggle. “We could swap stories over more coffee and muffins.”

Dan is stumped for a minute, not quite sure if he’s up to the idea of talking about his alter ego and pretending to be in love with him. But Gavin is still at the counter looking glassy-eyed and the people in line are getting impatient and _there’s so much pressure_ so he just says “Lunch sounds good.”

Gavin brightens up. “Great! See you at lunch Dan!” he finishes with a grin, positively skipping out of the shop.

Even when the next customer gets all pissy with Dan because he’s staring too much at Gavin’s ass to pay attention to them he doesn’t really mind, because he’s got himself a date.

–

Secondly, when he’s out on his _night job_ again, this time taking on a much more dangerous armed gang three blocks down the street, Ray perched up high and calling out weak spots, Gavin trips (trips!) into the alleyway he’s waiting in, expression brightening considerably as he waves enthusiastically.

“Hey!” he calls all too loudly, sound echoing down the empty alley. Dan slaps a hand over his mouth and nods towards the gang across the street, watching Gavin’s eyes widen in understanding.

“Sorry,” he whispers, pressing himself against the brick wall. “Can I watch though?”

“No fucking way,” Dan hisses. “Go home.”

“But I really want to see you kick their butts,” Gavin whines, adding in a pout for extra measure.

Dan’s mind flies back to the pleasant afternoon they spent discussing _him_ and groans. “Okay fine,” he relents, but shoots Gavin a glare. “But stay quiet.”

“As a mouse,” Gavin promises solemnly.

Between Dan’s skills and Ray’s ability as a sniper, they take the gang down easily enough, breaking up their small meeting and gathering some information, but not without strays leaking out through several escape routes that they hadn’t accounted for. Dan lets them go anyway and slips back into the alley Gavin’s waiting in, who’s looking at him with an awe-struck expression.

“That was awesome!” he yells, and Dan slaps a hand over his mouth again.

“Quiet,” he whispers, just as the sound of sirens start growing louder. There is a low rumble and Michael pulls up in a motorcycle, tossing a helmet to Dan who catches is easily and let’s Gavin go. “Go home.”

“Okay,” Gavin says a little forlornly, and Dan almost reaches out to pat him on the shoulder but thinks better of it. Instead he turns on his heel and pulls the helmet snug over his head, catching the ending words of “Thanks for letting me watch that! You were awesome!” as Michael revs the engine and drives off.

“That your adorable fan boy?” he asks and only sniggers when Dan raps his knuckles sharply on Michael’s helmet.

“Shut the fuck up.”

–

Thirdly, it becomes a _thing_.

Gavin breezes in through the doorways in the mornings and orders coffee, before making plans with him to discuss all about “The Black Devil and his M.O.!” to which Dan stupidly agrees to every single time.

At night, whenever he’s in the area, Gavin is somehow always _there_ , tripping into him or falling into his arms or creeping up on him from behind, and when he asks to stay and watch as Dan works, coupled with those sad eyes and pouty lips, Dan just _gives_ and stupidly agrees to every single time.

Basically, Dan goes through a period of agreeable stupidity.

“He’s like your fucking sidekick,” Ray mumbles one evening with his mouth stuffed full of tacos. “Like the Robin to your Batman–”

“–fuck you–”

“–the Speedy to your Green Arrow, the Kid Flash to your Flash.”

“The Bucky to your Captain America,” Michael picks up from the opposite end of the room. “The Rhodey to your Tony Stark.”

“Seriously?” Ray scoffs, shooting Michael an unimpressed look.

He shrugs. “For completeness’ sake.”

Dan buries his head in his hands. “He’s not my sidekick. He doesn’t even fight. He _trips on air_ , he’d kill himself before the bad guy can even pull out any weapons to threaten him with.”

Michael sniggers as Ray stuffs more tacos into his mouth. “Whatever man,” Ray finally says around another mouthful, spitting crumbs everywhere and making Michael gag.

“Dude, that’s fucking disgusting.”

“Shut up.”

Dan just ignores their bickering and returns to hiding his face in his palms.

–

It isn’t much of an issue until it _becomes_ an issue.

Because here’s the thing, Dan thinks he might be _in love_ with Gavin.

They don’t just talk about the Black Devil anymore. Sometimes Gavin tells him about his work, his job, how much he hates it (on Tuesdays and Fridays) and how much he loves it (on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays) and how he’s going to strangle his boss and take over the company and run everything on his own (on Saturdays and Sundays). He comes in when he’s hungover and takes a minute or two to recuperate as he lounges against the counter, sipping his coffee sleepily and discussing what time he should be back to meet Dan. And no matter how many times Dan tells himself that meeting Gavin over lunch is just a _friendly_ thing, his brain always goes and betrays him and yells “Date!” when Gavin comes in and slips into an empty seat.

But as much as he’s in love with Gavin, he doesn’t dare say a fucking thing despite Burnie and Barbara’s encouragements.

Because Gavin is _in love_ with the Black Devil.

He’d never thought he would hate himself so much because Gavin is clearly in love with him but _not_ in love with him.

And it’s so fucking complicated that Dan’s brain just shuts down when he even tries to think about it.

So he keeps his mouth shut and keeps pouring Gavin more coffee as he talks about the latest stunt the Black Devil pulled (which makes him want to scream “I know! _I_ was the one who did it!”) and opens his arms when Gavin comes tripping round the corner each night.

It’s exhausting and insane and is an _issue_ because, _seriously_.

But he keeps his mouth shut and just takes it in.

–

Gavin starts to become a permanent fixture in his life and _wow_ he does not want to think about his expression if Dan ever tells him he’s actually the Black Devil.

It’s going to cause him to fall a little more in love with Dan or a little out of love with the Black Devil.

And although he hopes for the former, he knows, logically, that reality will probably be the latter.

–

The night is relatively peaceful when he slips onto the roof of a building, surreptitiously checking his watch and gauging the distance he’d have to jump in order to make it to the next landing. He turns around and checks for a shadow following him or clumsy footsteps echoing across the empty roof but there’s nothing, no sound.

Two figures appear on the next roof and suddenly there’s the glint of a knife again. Dan doesn’t waste any more time, sprinting full speed across the roof and leaping, barely catching on the edge of the landing on the next building. He pulls himself up and watches the knife flash again in the moonlight.

“You got lucky last time,” the man hisses, and Dan realises with a jolt that it’s the _same fucking man_ that was threatening Gavin the first time. “You won’t be so lucky this time.”

He hauls himself over the railing and throws a short knife a the attacker, hearing it embed itself on his calf as he lets out a howl of pain. The victim stumbles back, terrified, and Dan rushes over to steady him before he tips over the edge of the building. He throws a sharp punch at the attacker’s face and watches him crumple to the ground.

“Thanks again,” the small voice says from behind him, and Dan turns sharply to see Gavin huddled under his giant coat and shivering. “I was– yeah thanks.”

Dan nods curtly at him and takes a step forward, cupping Gavin’s face gently in his hand. “Are you okay?”

Gavin looks up at him, eyes shining and so fucking beautiful it’s like a punch to his gut. “Yeah– yeah. I’m fine.”

He blames the moonlight and the adrenaline rushing through his blood (because _Gavin_ was in danger for fuck’s sake) for what happens next. He leans in, and watches Gavin’s eyes drop to half mast as he leans forward too, and they meet halfway, Dan pressing his lips against Gavin’s. The kiss is chaste, careful, _sweet_ even, and ends far too soon for both of their liking.

A car honks somewhere below, and Dan pulls away as though burnt. “I, uh, I gotta go.”

“Yeah yeah,” Gavin waves absentmindedly, expression going distant as he looks away. “See ya.”

Dan just nods, not trusting his voice, and makes his way down the building using a nearby pipe. When he slips into the car Michael pats his knee carefully and shoots him a pitying smile.

“Just go,” Dan grumbles, and stares at the shadow still standing stock still at the top of the building.

–

Gavin doesn’t come in for coffee the next morning. Dan feels it like a punch to the gut, but takes a deep breath and tells himself it’s okay.

It’s okay.

Some time with Gavin as one person is better than no time with Gavin at all.

–

Gavin doesn’t show up that night either. Dan is a little worried, and asks Michael to take a detour past Gavin’s place (which Barbara kindly helped him track down) just to see if he’s okay.

He’s in his room, curtains closed but lights on, bent over his desk as he scribbles away.

He heaves a sigh of disappointment and tells Michael to just take them home.

–

Gavin shows up for coffee the next morning.

“Oh god you’re a miracle,” he croons into his coffee cup over lunch.

“Who? Me or the coffee?” Dan teases because they’re at the witty banter stage of their relationship now (and he tries not to think about when all _this_ will end because Gavin’s with the _Black Devil_ and _god_ he hates that dude).

“You,” Gavin murmurs, which Dan thinks he isn’t supposed to hear it but he does anyway.

He sits up a little straighter in his seat. “Me?”

Gavin looks up sharply, and then dissolves into a sheepish smile. “So. Dan.”

Dan returns the smile. “Yeah?”

“How does dinner sound?”

He’s surprised, to say the least, and he knows his expression shows it. “Dinner?”

“Yeah,” Gavin says, thumbs twiddling as he holds onto his cup. “Like a– like a date.”

His mind is whirring and he can’t– _what the hell is going on?_ But he can’t help it, not the pleading eyes or the hopeful look or the fact that _Gavin Free is asking him on a date_.

“Yeah sure. What time should I pick you up?”

–

Gavin shows up that night, and Dan (the _Black Devil_ ) feels something in his chest, like a swooping sensation that makes him feel like he’s falling.

“Hey,” he starts with a small wave once he’s settled back onto his feet. “I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry.”

“For?” Dan replies with a slight tilt of his head.

“I had a date tonight,” he says quietly. “With this guy. He’s pretty amazing, and a huge fan of you too.”

Dan smiles at that. “He sounds great already.”

Gavin chuckles and rolls his eyes. “For a superhero, you sure are humble.”

“Are you happy?” Dan asks, heart thudding painfully loud in his chest.

Gavin’s smile goes distant, and he’s seen that expression before, the first time he’d swept into the coffee shop and declared the Black Devil “The awesomest person alive”.

“Yeah,” Gavin finally says. “Yeah I am.”

–

So here’s how it stops becoming an issue.

Michael walks into the coffee shop when the lights are low to catch Dan and Gavin snogging on one of the loveseats. He points an accusing finger at them and yells “So he isn’t your fucking sidekick!”

They pull apart so quickly Dan rams his knee on the small coffee table in front of them and Gavin hits his head on one of the low shelfs. Ray is not far behind and drapes an arm around Michael.

“So Gavin’s the Louis Lane to your Superman.”

“The Peggy Carter to your Captain America.”

“The Jean Grey to your Wolverine.”

“Oh my fucking god stop,” Dan groans, but Gavin is desperately trying to stifle his giggles before he suddenly goes silent.

“Wait. Why did they think I’m your sidekick? Have I met them before?”

Michael and Ray exchange glances and flee the shop without so much as looking back, and Dan is left staring at a confused Gavin who’s staring after Michael and Ray with a lost expression on his face. _Now’s as good a time as ever,_ Dan thinks and sends a quick prayer to whatever god there may be that everything will turn out okay.

“I’ve been hiding something,” he starts, and launches into his very long, very own, origin story.

(Michael and Ray are right, he should get someone to do up a comic book as homage to the Black Devil.)

When he finishes, Gavin’s staring at him open-mouthed, a little surprised, cheeks flushed.

“So,” Dan says, and winces at the prospect of a negative response. “Do you hate me?”

Gavin just stares and then shakes his head. “Are you kidding me?”

Dan holds his breath and waits.

“That’s amazing!” and his eyes are shining and he launches himself at Dan, forcing them to fall back with a short “Oof!”

“So I’m taking that as a good thing then?”

“Yeah!” Gavin replies enthusiastically. “Absolutely amazing,” he continues, punctuating each syllabus with a kiss to his lips. “Wondrous. Awe-inspiring.”

Dan’s laughing against his lips now and yeah, yeah it’s okay.

Gavin pulls back and grins down at him. “So, can I be the Robin to your Batman?”

Dan raises an eyebrow at him, but Gavin is looking so earnestly at him that Dan can’t find it in himself to say no and instead, settles for a sigh. “I’ll think about it.” This makes Gavin’s eyes light up as he punches the air in triumph.

Seriously, Gavin’s looks are fucking _lethal_.


End file.
